Harry Potter the Green Wizard
by Technophobia678
Summary: AU. Slight Charmed crossover. The Dursleys give Harry up the day they find him on their doorstep. Harry Potter is raised by people that are well aware of magic. Warnings: Completely AU and contains OC's. Pairings to be decided.
1. Chapter 1

Synapsis

A Harry Potter story with a slight Charmed crossover

There will be original characters involved, you've been warned

Summary-

The Dursleys gave Harry up the day they found him on their doorstep. As such, Harry Potter grew up in a household that knew all about magic.

Characters-any recognisable characters belong to the Harry Potter or Charmed universe

My characters:

Miranda and Melanie Taylor-sisters

British descendants of Melinda Warren

Megan Taylor-Miranda's daughter

Other minor characters

Will mention magic from Harry Potter and magick from Charmed and several other sources

Will probably contain clichés such as manipulative Dumbledore, character bashing (Ron, Malfoy, Fudge, etc. etc.)


	2. Chapter 2

Alright I got this idea from another HP site. I enjoy stories about Harry growing up away from the Dursleys and I decided to write one loosely based in the Charmed universe. And when I say loosely, I'd mention the witches in San Francisco, but they won't actually _be_ in the story.

There'll be a few characters belonging to me. It'll contain a meddling Dumbledore, possible character bashing (cough, Ron, cough) and some extracts from the Charmed universe and some books. The Wiccan religion will be mentioned, but aside from some books I know little about the religion and I don't want anyone to take offence for any blunders I make.

And as a side note, this is my first sojourn into an AU Harry Potter story, which is really weird considering how many stories I've got waiting to be actually written, but even so, this is probably one of my more AU plots. I hope it's not complete crap, but you never know.

The scream that shattered the early morning silence in an outwardly normal suburban street, was decidedly not the norm for this ordinary place.

Vernon Dursley was so startled he accidently banged his head against the bed he was under. His deodorant had fallen off his bedside table and had rolled under the bed and he had been on his knees cursing when his wife's shriek had rent through the air. Scrambling out on his knees, he'd struggled to his feet to barrel down the stairs as further cries reached his ears, the cries of an infant. He recognised the loud wails of his son as well as an unfamiliar cry of an unknown baby.

He found his wife standing in the open doorway, her back to the stairs.

"Petunia! What" he skidded behind her, huffing from the sudden burst of exercise. He then spotted what his wife was staring at and stuttered to a halt.

On their doorstep in a basket was a child. Vernon had the fleeting, random thought of a stork delivering a baby to a family. With a tuft of black hair and tearstained cheeks, the baby looked no older than Dudley. He looked like a perfectly healthy baby save for a vivid red cut on his forehead.

He looked like…

"V-Vernon" Petunia gasped, sounding shaken and scared. "That's…."

"What is _he_ doing here?" Vernon hissed. He glanced left and right, half expecting to see Petunia's no good sister and her freak of a husband to be on their property somewhere. It could only be Potter's child; that mop of hair and eyes could only be from the two of those unnatural folk.

"I don't know" his shocked wife stammered. "I found him here when I was getting the milk." She gestured helplessly at the doorstep.

Vernon looked around again. Petunia's scream would have attracted attention. He could see some curtains being shifted and the early morning meant people would be heading out to work.

"Pet" he said reluctantly. "We have to get inside."

Petunia looked ready to protest, but she quickly grasped where they were and what the situation could look like to their neighbours. Cringing, she swiftly reached out to pluck the handle of the children's basket. The boy was still sniffling as she quickly pulled the child inside and shut the door firmly.

Dudley was still wailing in the kitchen as his parents dithered in the hallway. Quickly making up her mind, Petunia strode into the sitting room to deposit the basket onto the coffee table.

It was then she noticed a crumbled envelope in the basket along with her dratted sister's child. She pulled it out and glared at its address, which stated _Petunia and Vernon Dursley_.

Dudley was beginning to hoarse from screaming and she hastily moved to the kitchen to calm her precious child before dealing with her unnatural nephew and her ungrateful sister later.

After a half hour, Dudley was finally settled and fed and Vernon put him upstairs, away from his cousin. Petunia was loath to go near the boy and stayed in the kitchen. Glowering at the offending letter that had accompanied the boy on her doorstep and slit it open, shaking the letter out.

By the time she'd read the letter and processed its contents, Vernon had come back downstairs. He peered into sitting room, grimacing at the sight of the child basket before making his way to the kitchen, anger and confusion running through him.

He found his wife sitting at the kitchen table, ashen faced and staring at a letter in front of her.

"Petunia?" he asked uncertainly. "Pet?"

His wife appeared to be catatonic, but there was a dull burning in her pale eyes. Vernon paused unsure of what to do when Petunia started to speak.

"This-" she said softly, her voice full of venom. "Is from my sister's esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore informing me that my sister and her husband have been killed." Vernon had no idea what to say to that, but there was no need. Petunia went on. "'On the 31st of October, the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort who has been terrorising the Muggle and magical world attacked them where they were living and killed them. Your sister, a gifted witch and devoted mother, gave the ultimate sacrifice and shielded her son, your nephew, from this wizard's attack.'"

Her voice was beginning to raise, the fury seeping into her rant. "'Your sister's sacrifice acted as a shield, reflecting the wizard's curse away from Harry'" so _that's_ the boy's name Vernon realised in slow dawning horror "'and destroyed the wizard's body. Harry Potter has saved the Wizarding world and everyone owes him a debt that can never be repaid. Our whole world will soon know his name.'"

Petunia's voice took a slightly hysterical quality. "'As such, _my dear_, this puts your nephew in grave danger. Lord Voldemort's followers known as Death Eaters are just as dangerous and vicious as their master. They will not hesitate to harm or kill your nephew and steps must be taken to prevent it.

"' As such Petunia, I am invoking the ancient magic your sister has performed. Her blood sacrifice lives on in your nephew and yourself. By taking your nephew into your home, the powerful protection will keep him safe from all those who wish him harm.'

"Oh and it gets better darling" Petunia gave a shrill laugh, her voice vicious as she read bits of the letter out, not bothering to read the rest of it. "'I know the bonds of sisters can be strained through times of hardship, but family is everything….and though many regrets linger, forgiveness can be found in compassion….taking in your nephew can heal the wounds of past hurts and wrongs….your lives are in danger Petunia. By accepting him into your home and family you will be safe from any vengeful followers of the Dark Lord's that may come after you in retribution. I will take care of all legal proceedings and ensure no-one will know your location to protect you from all scrutiny!'" Seized with violent fury, she shoved the letter away from her, tears burning her eyes.

Ominously silent, her husband carefully pulled the letter towards himself with a knife, having no desire to touch anything belonging to these freaks. His eyes narrowed as he read through the offending parchment (actual parchment, these freaks couldn't bother with normal paper, could they?) himself.

He felt himself begin to swell with fury at the _presumption _this freak had. Oh they will take in the boy will they? After all, he was _family_. And they shouldn't tell him of his heritage as he grew older, they didn't want him to be arrogant of course. And unless he was very much mistaken, he thought as he read through the lower paragraphs his wife hadn't mentioned, he could detect a hint that if the boy was mistreated, no-one would be the wiser. Oh this Dumble's bloke talked of forgiveness and compassion but anyone who knew the Dursleys knew that they didn't tolerate anything abnormal and that it would not be welcomed in their lives. And this man knew it.

But what really stuck his craw was the fact that this child was now responsible of ridding the world of a dangerous-is there any other kind?-lunatic _they_ were at risk from this lot. His family were in danger from something that was neither their concern nor their responsibility.

He slammed the knife down hard, making his wife jump. Getting up he went to the phone and with his wife watching, he dialled the office and informed them he would not be in today because of a family emergency. He let the phone fall back onto its cradle and stared out down the hall to where he could hear the child whimpering.

"He's not staying" he said flatly. "We are not having one of _them_ under our roof."

His wife sighed, and rested her head on her hands. "Vernon…"

"No Pet" Vernon was adamant. "I will not risk you or Dudley by keeping the boy. He's dangerous."

"What can we do about it?" Petunia's voice was despairing. "These-_people_-can force us to take him. And how could we stop them? They didn't exactly give us a chance to refuse" she gave a short laugh that had absolutely no humour in it. "They won't listen to us. D'you know they can force people to do what they want? They have these _spells_ and _potions _that can take your free will away. They can make you do anything they want you to." She laughed hysterically and got to her feet, gesturing at thin air. "And it's not like we can say anything. We're _Muggle_ after all. We have no say." Her lips twisted into a sneer.

"We don't have a choice" she whispered and the raw fury and sorrow in her voice nearly sent her husband to his knees. He crossed the kitchen to embrace her, rage engulfing his insides. After everything that…_World_ did to her, taking her sister and getting her parents killed, it now demanded more from her. Well Vernon Gregory Dursley was having none of it.

"Yes we do" he whispered in her ear, pulling back to gaze into her grey eyes that still had the power to pull him in. He was not about to let their world be ruined by a bunch of cross dressing stick waving, busy body _freaks_ who thought they could push normal law abiding folk to do their bidding.

"I'll request a transfer overseas" he whispered. "See if I can go to America or something."

His wife's eyes widened. "Vernon…"

"We can take the boy to an orphanage" he said quickly, letting the ideas just come out, a plan taking shape in his head as he went. "One far enough away that they won't find him and try to bring him back here. We can stay with Marge for a while."

"They'd find us" Petunia hissed in panic but Vernon overrode her.

"Not if we move fast" he said quickly, hoping this was true. He didn't know or understand those people and was perfectly happy with that, but he had no desire for them to use their freaky powers on him or his wife.

"I'll take the boy to an orphanage or whatever and get rid of him" Vernon said, thinking things over. "You can pack up the thing's we'd need and the valuables so that when I get back we'll be ready to leave." She opened her mouth and Vernon continued hoping to get her to see reason.

"Marge will take us in for a while. We can stay there for a while and maybe a hotel or motel until there's an opening in Grunning's available. We can sell the house the car"

"This is our home Vernon" Petunia whispered. She was torn and Vernon knew he was close.

"It's just a house" he said firmly. "You and Dudley matter more. We're family and that child is not. I will not allow those freaks to tell us what we have to do. I will never forgive myself if something happens to you or Dudley because we decided to keep the boy against our better judgement."

Petunia shuddered in his arms and a moment he was worried she would collapse. But her lovely grey eyes opened again and he could see the stormy fire in them. She kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck and he pulled her closer to him. Their marriage was solid and comfortable but until then, he hadn't realised how much the passion had faded. He would have taken things further if not for the fact there were things to do.

Petunia clearly felt the same as she reluctantly pulled away, her eyes shining.

"I'll take the boy away" her husband cleared his throat awkwardly and Petunia wanted to giggle like a schoolgirl for the flushed and dazed expression on his face.

"Are you sure they're not watching us right now?" she asked, suddenly worried.

Vernon frowned too, frustrated. His paranoia with anything to do with his sister in law's folk was growing. He'd once been on the wrong that Potter boy's stick thing and while he couldn't clearly remember what happened, Petunia refused to say anything about it and hadn't gotten anything for her sister's anniversary that year.

"We could hide the boy to the car" Vernon scrunched his face up trying to think.

Petunia's eyes suddenly widened. "Hang on." She dashed away to Vernon's consternation and went to the cupboard under the stairs. Curious he followed her watching as she bent over and started rummaging through the cupboard, rooting for something buried deep inside.

She let out a low 'hah!' of satisfaction and pulled out a shimmery silver cloak thing.

"Petunia!" Vernon gasped.

"Those terrible wastrels that are friends with Potter left this behind on one of their pranks" she said in satisfaction. "After I clobbered them with a rolling pin they left, leaving this behind." She shook it out and wrapped it around her arm and to Vernon's astonishment, the arm vanished. She took it off again and the arm reappeared.

"They call it an Invisibility Cloak" she said in distaste. "If we cover the basket in it, we could take it to the car without them noticing. We can leave it in the passenger seat."

The situation was wreaking havoc on Vernon's sensibilities. One thing was for sure, he was not having this child in his life and disrupting his view on the world as he knew it. He had enough of that from the boy's parents' thank you very much.

"Alright let's do this" Vernon grunted, moving to the sitting room door. Petunia hovered behind him as they looked at the small child on the table. He was awake and shifting around, whimpering occasionally. For a moment Petunia pitied the child who had lost its parents' but her husband was right, he would not be staying with them.

"Let's go" she said quickly and the pair wrapped the child basket in the Cloak. The boy's whimpers grew louder as the material hid him from view.

"This isn't going to work" Vernon growled.

Petunia sighed. "I'll feed him and change his nappy before you go. We don't want him doing anything when you're driving."

Vernon paled at the thought as Petunia hurriedly went to the kitchen to get the half bottle of milk from the fridge she had been planning to give Dudley for lunch. He still drank a fair bit of milk though he had started on solid food a couple of months ago.

The boy had guzzled the warmed milk down and she quickly and efficiently took him out of the basket and changed his nappy. Dudley's nappies were too large for the wisp of a child and she had to use a safety pin. Done, she put the child back into the basket along with a note she'd written in the kitchen while waiting for the milk to warm. Finished, she paused as she looked at the boy, the faintest regret stirring, but she suppressed it.

He would have a chance to grow up with people who cared for him, she thought firmly. That was more than she and her husband could give him. This was the last act she could do for her sister.

In the time it had taken for her to feed the boy and change him, Vernon had changed his mind and started packing the large suitcases they used for holidays. He was reluctant to leave his wife and son in case those interfering weirdoes came around and tried to harm them. Petunia smiled at her husband's words, but pointed out that it would take time to pack their valuables and belongings up. They agreed to be out of here by dark, not wanting any unwelcome guests to arrive.

Vernon and Petunia put on their best masks, pretending nothing was amiss. Petunia kissed Vernon and went around to the side to put a bag into the passenger seat, when it reality she was fastening the invisible child carrier into the chair. Vernon gave her a shaky smile which she returned as he got in the car and started the engine. She stood in the driveway until he was gone.

Breathing hard she walked into the house again. She could hear her baby fussing upstairs but ignored her instincts for the moment and went into the kitchen where the offending letter still sat on the table.

Plucking the letter off the table she involuntarily glanced down at it and softened slightly. Guilt prickled her consciousness. She remembered the old days with her sister when their lives hadn't been turned upside down from the world of magic. Before Lily was discovered to be a witch and she wasn't, before she had been cast aside, however unintentionally by their parents, from her younger sister's brilliance and beauty. Before their parents were killed from those wretched people and the bitterness had completely taken hold of her.

A tear slowly made its way down her cheek as unbidden; the thought of keeping the boy emerged. She could persuade Vernon to keep him here, if only to keep him alive. He _was_ family, however begrudgingly.

Then her eyes widened and she dropped the letter again. She stared at it horrified. Could it have been bewitched to make her take him in? They had ways of making people do what they wanted, she knew that much. A memory flashed through her mind before she could stop it; coming home to learn that her parents were dead and that it had been her father who had killed her mother by those terrorists' commands.

Fury reared in her like a snake. She shoved herself away from the table and seized the closest objects she could find; a frying pan, a lighter for the gas cooker and a set of tongs. Going back to the table she put the pan where she had been a moment ago. An idea occurred to her and she went back to get the wine Lily had sent her for her anniversary. Pouring some into the pan, she carefully plucked the letter and its envelope with the tongs into it and dousing them in more of the alcohol, she set the whole thing alight.

She watched as the flames eagerly devoured the parchment, the heavy paper burning, blackening and crumbling into ash. The fire was bright and high, and a nasty smell was beginning to furl through the kitchen. Petunia gazed into the flames, mesmerised, her expression stony and her eyes wet. When the letter was all but gone she carefully took the pan to the sink and left it there to burn out on its own and opened the kitchen window before turning and walking away.

She paused for a moment in the threshold of the kitchen, closed her eyes and tilted her head up. She swallowed hard, her eyes prickling.

"Damn you Lily" she whispered before blinking away tears and heading for the stairs.

XX

Miranda Taylor suppressed a growl of frustration as she marched off down the street, annoyance making her long legs eat the ground she walked on.

There were days she hated her job as a social worker. It was an important job and there were days she could bask in the contentment of a job well done. But more often than not, it revealed the dark and cruel side of humanity that even she found difficult to comprehend. Those days made her job seem like a thankless task.

Today for example she had to help a poor man with three children, deal with the fallout of his wife leaving him and their kids for a younger man, clearing their bank account and savings out as she left. They had been married for eight years and he had recently lost his job before his wife skived off with a biker she'd met in a bar, taking most of their money as she went. Miranda had to do her job for the last month, keeping track of the bewildered family, helping the father get a new job and trying to help them stay afloat and not have to put the kids in care. Today the pair had been found and a little under half of the money had been found. It was little consolation for the weary father or the poor children who couldn't understand why their mother had left them. It had left a foul taste in her mouth.

It was days like this that sorely tested her restraint. If she had a little less self-control, she would curse the woman who had caused so much pain for her family and whose true regret was getting caught and having to return the money she'd stolen. She wanted to inflict the heartache she had felt dealing with her family onto her, threefold. She wanted her to suffer like she had caused her family to suffer.

She breathed in and out as she ducked into the park. It was a beautiful day for November, the sun shining weakly, trying to warm the earth. The trees were bare and there was scant wildlife, but that didn't diminish the tranquil beauty of this place. It was quite quiet today, the crisp air keeping most indoors, which suited her.

Sitting on one of the benches, she closed her eyes and breathed in and out, tuning out the world for now to let the power of the earth soothe and comfort her. She couldn't stay for long, but that didn't matter. She let the earth's energy cleanse her negative thoughts and feelings before returning to herself, murmuring a prayer of thanks.

Reenergised, she breathed in deeply before making her way briskly towards the office again. She felt better. Wanting to punish wrongdoers wasn't wrong, but she could not cross that line. She could hear her mother's voice in her ear, hammering home an unwritten rule of any witch. _We protect the innocents, those who cannot protect themselves. We do not punish the guilty. Otherwise, we become the monsters we were trying to stop._

Miranda smiled ruefully remembering similar lectures many times as a child, both to herself and to her sister. Punishing the ex-Mrs Kane would be immensely satisfying but she did not have that divine right. In time, the Goddess would ensure all of her misdeeds would be repaid….threefold.

She double checked that her power was still in check before she got into her building. Empathy was a weighty gift and in a profession like hers could be both boon and burden. She wanted to be completely focussed before entering the building.

Out of habit, she did a quick mental sweep of the area with her gift and startled when she came across something strange. A man's presence was in the car park, bubbling with tense, nervous energy. He was worried, paranoid. He was afraid of someone following him. With him was the energy of a child, confused, nervous, _scared_. He wanted his mama.

Without conscious thought, she veered away from the entrance of the building and to where the oddly urgent sensations were coming from. _Important,_ her senses told her. _Hurry_.

She broke into a jog just as the squeal of tires met her ears. The man's presence was fading, travelling away quickly and the little boy's fear was rising. He was alone. Where was his mama?

She heard him beginning to cry just as she got into the car park. The man was gone, she knew. He was going east, heading back home. Leaving a baby alone in a Social Services car park.

She found the baby in a small basket on a grassy embankment between the car park and the street. The little guy was roughly a year old she estimated and seemed healthy from what she could see without taking him out of the basket to check. He had a mop of very dark hair, red cheeks from crying and bright green eyes. What really alarmed her was the cut on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning. His family hadn't carved it on his face, had they?

She bent down, releasing waves of soothing comfort towards the frightened child as she hunkered down and reached in to stroke his face.

As soon as she touched the child, she stiffened. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she was pulled into a stream of violent churning pictures.

She saw the child in a play pen looking up at a tall black figure, pointing a wooden wand at him. A crumbled figure of a woman was at his feet, the boy's mother. The figure swung his arm and a jet of sickly green light shot towards the baby, only to violently rebound from him and strike its castor.

Images raced by, no longer clear or coherent. She caught the barest glimpse of two spiralling, golden paths, shaped like a V. There were two paths, two ways this child's destiny could follow. Without compunction, she was thrown along one of the paths.

She saw a flash of a man and woman and their son, could sense their disgust and loathing. She saw a cupboard under the stairs, felt hunger and loneliness. Then came blurred images of castles, red hair, an old, old man, green and red lights colliding, saw a clear image of man with a snake like face, a twisted smile of malice on the lipless mouth. Feelings flashed through her like snapshots in time; fear pain, confusion, betrayal, hurt feelings, joy and terrible sorrow.

Then she was barrelling headlong up the other twisting path, unable to slow the flow of sensations coursing through her. She spotted her sister Melanie along with a little girl and the boy together. He and the girl were together, arguing in one clear segment and she realised in amazement, it was her own baby Megan. Similar images flickered along before suddenly showing familiar scenes of castles and old faces, before plunging into twisting, whirling, grey fog.

The shock was so sudden; it was like being thrown forward in a car that suddenly braked. Gasping and shaking, she leaned back on her haunches, trying to recover from the violent onslaught of emotions and visions. She shook from exertion and cold sweat trickled down her spine. The baby was almost screaming by this stage and she shook off the cobwebs to project peace and comfort into the poor boy.

Carefully soothing the child she stared, shaken, into the vivid green eyes. This…this child had a terrible destiny awaiting him. Of that she was absolutely certain. She had never seen such a violent and confusing vision before. Flashes of light and castles and oh Goddess, the pain….her heart ached for the small innocent child who had a wretched future ahead of him.

Or was it? She wondered, rocking on her heels. The first path was terrible, full of pain and betrayal. The second….was unclear, but her family were involved. His future was clearly at an impasse and the choices she made now would decide his fate.

The boy had calmed and she gently brushed a finger against the livid cut on his forehead. She recoiled almost immediately. The rush of energy nearly made her gag. The boy's own energy was bright and clean, but the cut was full of black energy, dark and nauseating. It had to have been from the green light that had struck him.

She sighed. She had never heard of such magic. She and Mel would have to do research and see if they could find anything that fit.

She smiled at the little boy, and he gave her a largely toothless grin back. He was an adorable little thing, truly. She tickled the boy's tummy and grinned as he giggled. Then her fingers encountered paper and she found a note.

Blinking, she pulled it out. It was a simple note, the kind people wrote on for quick reminders, shopping or for conversations. In bold lettering it stated:

THIS CHILD WAS DUMPED ON OUR DOORSTEP LAST NIGHT.

ITS PARENTS ARE DEAD.

WE HAVE NO INTEREST IN RAISING THE BOY AND WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. WE RELINQUISH ANY AND ALL RIGHTS TO HIM.

It wasn't signed. Of course, if you were dumping a baby, you wouldn't exactly leave your signature on the note would you?

Miranda had to stifle a flash of anger at the words and took a deep breath. She let her social worker side take over, studying the wording and analysing it. It sounded like a family member of the boy was given the child and they had immediately gotten rid of him. But why didn't Child Services investigate the family before putting him there or why didn't the family just give him back?

"You don't have much luck, huh kiddo?" she said to the baby, who blinked at her. She grinned at him and extended her senses, sending waves of comfort and security to him. She nearly tumbled on her butt when she felt a presence tentatively push back against her consciousness.

She gaped at the baby, mouth hanging open. It couldn't be…she extended her power again. She was no aura reader, but it didn't matter. She could feel the little guy extending his own conscious back at the sensation. She withdrew and gazed at the boy. It was true. This little guy was a witch and a budding empath to boot.

She shook her head in disbelief. This was even more complicated than she had thought. She crossed her eyes at him. "You're going to be a lot of trouble aren't you young man?"

The boy blinked innocently at her.

Miranda laughed and winced at her protesting thighs. She grimaced and stood, feeling rushing back into her legs. Stretching her back, she contemplated what to do.

She'd have to take the boy inside and try and keep the baby close. If what she had seen was true, he would be in close contact with her family. It was clear the Goddess had wanted her to find this child. She could only pray to her and the God to protect the little boy, whose future seemed so uncertain.

But first….she glanced around. She had to hide that cut. It would raise too many questions. She'd contact a friend to see if she could do anything about cleansing the dark magic from it.

She cast her power out, checking for anyone close by. Then, the coast clear she bent down again and whispered

_Hide the mark where darkness resides_

_From the world and prying eyes._

Instantly his forehead shimmered and she was pleased to see the mark disappear, leaving seemingly unmarked skin behind.

"C'mon little man, let's go" Miranda picked up the basket, putting the note back into the basket. She walked to the entrance of the building, swinging the basket a little and singing a song to keep the baby content.

Ok. Done for the minute. I'm trying to encourage myself to actually write out the random plot bunnies before they leave to greener pastures these days. Hey it's summer, there's no jobs, whaddya do?

_*Update your other stories you bloody idiot*_

Hem. (Clears throat.)

Well the Dursleys are a little out of character, but well…they don't like Harry. They shouldn't have had to take him in. And their characters are bashed as a fact of life (justifiably so) but, they should have some humanity in them. Somewhere. Really, really deep down.

Well I know no-one really likes OC's, including me, but I really hope the Taylor's survive the storm of scrutiny. More will be explained in later chapters. That's assuming (cringes) no-one kills me for drastically altering the HP universe.

Anyone who is actually mildly interested or completely derisive of my first attempt to go completely AU they're welcome to press that nice, eye catching review button.


	3. Chapter 3

Melanie Taylor resisted the urge to snap the phone she was cradling between her head and shoulder in half. Idly she wondered if it was possible to craft a spell that would let her reach into the phone and wring the guy's neck on the other end.

None of her murderous impulses were in her voice however as she talked to her boss on the phone as she kept an iron grip on her emotions. Now was not the time to have an uncontrollable outburst.

"Yes sir, I know that I had the last two days off, but I did let you know a month beforehand"

"And now we're behind in the books" her boss's nasally voice interrupted her. "Just because it's a kiddie holiday weekend you don't think we're busy? We've got a new shipment in. Be there by nine or it's your job." And he hung up before she could retort.

Melanie clenched her teeth and hung up the phone. She closed her eyes and mentally chanted

_When I'm stressed or depressed_

_Emotion clouding my thoughts_

_I call upon the powers above_

_For peace and comfort desperately sought_

It was an awkward rhyme, but it did the trick. She felt her temper simmer and settle, causing the booth's walls she was in to cease their rattling. She was thankful the phone box gave her the relative privacy to regain her composure. If she didn't need the money she would tell the arrogant chauvinistic self-important arse to stick it. Colourfully.

She stepped out of the booth to see her friend Amy giving her a sympathetic smile. "Go well?"

Melanie sighed and Amy grinned apologetically. Her friend was pretty with strawberry hair and brown eyes, somewhat overweight and around her height of 5'7. She was dressed exactly the same as well, a stark white labcoat over their clothes and large safety specs pushed back from their face and worn like a headband.

"You know I admire you Mellie" Amy said, handing over her book bag she'd been holding for her as they started walking along campus. "Your boss? A jerk, frankly. And I admire you sticking with it I do. If I were working with the man, I'd have shoved a burette up his ass by now." Melanie snorted. "But surely you can get another job?"

"I'm looking" Melanie admitted ruefully. To be honest, she had spent much of her limited free time looking for a better job. She had worked hard for her degree in chemistry and she was on her way to earning her Masters. She deserved better than being a glorified secretary for a pushing sixty pharmacist, who was of the opinion that women didn't belong in the industry. If it weren't for the fact that college was seriously expensive, she'd have quit a while ago.

"Any luck yet?" Amy asked sympathetically.

"I've got a couple of interviews coming up" Melanie shrugged. She really hoped she'd get lucky. She was planning on carrying a couple of good luck gemstones in her pocket when she went.

"Well I hope you get the job" Amy made a face as they went into one of the campus buildings to where their lockers where. "Jackson's a pig."

"Yeah" Melanie agreed laughing.

"So are you coming out tonight?" Amy asked shucking her labcoat off and putting her denim jacket on with a flourish.

"Can't, I've got a paper due" Mel scowled. She'd have it finished by now if Jackson hadn't called her up and made her work overtime 'to make up' for the fact she was taking a whopping two days off in a row.

"Tough" Amy grimaced and pulled her hair free from her jacket. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah" Melanie sighed and smiled tiredly at her chirpy friend. She waved goodbye and decided to leave the campus and head to her apartment. She still had a lot of work to do following Samhain and Wicca was not exactly a recognised religion, meaning getting time off for festivals was tricky.

She quickened her pace, shivering in the cold air. Goddess it was getting nippy these days, she thought, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets. She really wished she hadn't left her gloves in her apartment. Latex gloves weren't known to be good substitutes for woollen mitts in cold weather.

She was crossing the bridge and walked past one of those odd people she'd seen for a couple of days, dressed in bright cloaks and mismatched outfits. Possibly not out of place in London, but it was worth a second glance down here in the rural South West of the country. She just shook her head ruefully. For all she knew it was a new fashion statement or even a play of something. Though what kind of play would require a short rotund bald man in a bright purple cloak with a sequined jumper, pinstriped trousers and clown like shoes was anyone's guess.

She went round the corner, a block away from her apartment-and froze.

_Soul Snatchers._

There were several of them, drifting eerily over the heads of oblivious travellers. Their scabbed and skeletal fingers were outstretched from their black tattered robes towards the people, feeding on their auras. The air was significantly colder than it had been moments ago, icy and cutting into the lungs.

She mentally swore every foul and awful word from her vocabulary that she knew. These parasites numbers had exploded in recent years and she and her sister had no idea why. They preferred the busier areas of England like London, but a university city would attract their attention. They fed off positive emotion and feelings. If they got the chance they would eat their victim's soul, devouring it for eternity. They were among the worst of all demons and one of the most common of demons in Britain.

_So when other countries say the Brits are a bunch of miserable bastards, they're not exactly wrong, _she thought grimly. She withdrew her arms, ready for battle.

She knew she didn't have much time; they'd notice her bright and defiant aura and swarm her to overwhelm her defence. Quickly she softly incanted,

"_I am a shadow, a trick of the light_

_You see me not, I am out of sight."_

Her skin tingled and she felt the spell take effect. She was safe from passer-by's notice and it might mean she could get run over by an unaware car or pedestrian but it also meant they wouldn't notice when she destroyed these wretched wraiths.

One of the Snatchers was trailing after a weary looking young man, shoulders slumped and expression bleak. She shifted her vision to get a better look.

Melanie powers were not like Miranda's. Her sister's powers were considered passive but in truth they were powers of the mind. Empathy and precognition weren't offensive gifts but they were extremely useful talents and versatile too. Melanie's powers were more offensive but it meant she lacked protection from stealthier evil with mental arts.

Her only non-offensive power was useful in certain situations, this one included. She blinked and the world shifted into a riot of colours and impressions.

She found herself looking at the man and his unknown hitchhiker with new eyes. The man's aura was a dull sea green, greying and diminishing, shrinking and collapsing in on itself. The Snatcher's hand was deep inside the boy's aura, its own pure black aura pulsing nauseatingly from the energy it was absorbing. Soon the once blue green aura of the man would be drained completely and he would give up on life, turn to drink, drugs maybe or even commit suicide outright. And the foul beast would be there to collect its soul when he did.

Rage made her reckless. She lifted her hands and flexed her fingers at the parasite. The results were immensely satisfying.

The Snatcher convulsed and recoiled from the man, its hands ripped away from the man's aura. The wraith somersaulted in the air, a soundless scream of rage and confusion reverberating through the air. Ordinary people couldn't feel it but Melanie did. She was pleased to see the man stagger slightly and his aura flicker dimly.

With a wave of her hand she sent the rest of the Snatchers up in the air into a spiralling black twister. The silent screams of fury sent pangs of pain through her skull and she was glad her sister wasn't here. She was the more sensitive from these things than Mel with her mental powers.

Even so, she could feel the foul things powers trying to make her buckle. She bared her teeth and spat

"_Beings of despair and fear_

_Who rob us of what we hold dear_

_Shall taste the feeling of pain_

_As they earn what they have gained_

_No longer may they dwell_

_In heaven, earth or even hell_

_Banished from this world I degree_

_And the souls of their victims' set free."_

The mental screams intensified into what could almost be heard by human ears. The Snatchers writhed and fought, but it was futile. The foul things seemed to crack violently, light exploding from their insides, tearing them apart. As she watched, she smiled to see small swirling white balls of light escape and soar high into the sky before dissipating from sight.

She sighed in satisfaction and looked around at the pedestrians auras. Some were vibrant and colourful, recovered from the parasites mere siphoning off of their energies. Others were dull and greyed, where the foul things had drained them directly. Some looked nearly lifeless.

She bit her lip and softly chanted

"_Those harmed from the Snatchers hands_

_Shall recover with the help of the lands_

_May the power of the earth give_

_You the strength to recover and live_

_Heal the pain and the fear_

_And remember what makes life dear."_

She swallowed hard and opened her eyes. She had no idea if that would work. So many people were ignorant of the power all around them. And some may be too far gone to help.

She sighed heavily. She had done all she can. Now it was up to them and the will of the gods. Wearily, she walked towards her apartment, ducking into an empty alley to lift her invisibility spell.

It was with great relief she made it to her second floor apartment, tiredly greeting the guard and a few neighbours. Gratefully, she shut the door and leaned against it, sighing, before making her way to her small kitchen.

Her apartment was nothing special truly. It had a bedroom, a toilet and seating area joined with the kitchen. The furniture was comfortable and sturdy but not expensive. Melanie adored it.

It may have been small and her neighbour may be really into wild parties, but it was her space. The place was neat and clean and smelled of pine and eucalyptus. Several chunks of crystal and some metals dotted around the place, in corners of the rooms, on windowsills, on her bedside table. She had pots of plants around, full of lavender, mint, sage with a thistle plant centre place on her coffee table. Books on science, as well as maths and mechanics were on one side of a book case. The rest was covered in books on magick, divination, herbal remedies, potion recipes, spells, runes and astrology.

It wasn't as grand as her parents' seaside home where her sister now lived alone with her daughter Megan but it was comfortable. The air was warm and welcoming from the magick and protections she'd cast on the place. No-one with ill intent could enter, with magick or not.

She sighed and shucked off her coat and hung it on the coat hanger. She kicked off her runners and padded into the kitchen. She had made an energy tonic last week and it would bolster her flagging energy.

Two minutes later she was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping her drink in satisfaction, savouring the myriad of tastes against her tongue. She happened to glance to her left and started. Her answering machine was blinking.

Curious, since her social life was really quite pathetic she pressed a button. Her sister's voice answered her question.

"Hey Mellie" her older sister sounded a little frazzled. She could picture her in her mind's eye, biting her lip, one hand holding the phone while the other tugged her hair behind her back.

"I've got a situation down here" her sister said and it was enough to make her straighten.

"I need you to come home if you can" Miranda continued. "Bríd is still at home with Meg and she'll want to chat."

Mel swallowed. Bríd McEwan was a local witch with a powerful healing ability who took care of Megan when Miranda was working. Had something happened?

"And I think we figured out happened on Halloween too" Miranda added blithely.

Miranda only said Halloween when other people were around. She was speaking in code. Melanie tapped the counter. This Samhain there had been a disturbance that they had picked up on. It had felt like a powerful evil evaporating, one they had only vaguely felt before. They had been unsure of what the presence was or what had stopped it.

"I'll be home a little late today, so can you go home and I'll see you there? Bye."

Melanie set her empty mug back on the counter, alert and mind churning. Miranda had powerful intuition, no doubt enhanced by or too due with her powers. Whatever had happened, it was important.

She sighed and cast a baleful glance at her coffee table. She didn't need her sister's power to see the future to know that it was unlikely she was going to finish that paper today.

XX

Two hours later, a cranky Melanie found her irritation fading as she breathed in familiar salty air. No matter how much she loved her own apartment, the air of her home town was the most comforting thing she knew.

Her family home was set on a hillside not too far from the sea, but hidden from view with old trees. It was a rugged place with greenery and rock along with the more modern town and cars.

She parked her battered blue Toyota in the driveway of the house and got out, stretching out the kinks. She smiled involuntarily, sensing the warmth of the magick and the wards around their old home greeting her.

The home wasn't a mansion or a manor. It was a sturdy wood and stone detached house built on strong stone foundations. It had two floors, not including the attic and a cellar. It had been built by her great-great-great grandfather when he and his wife travelled over from America to resettle here. He had been a great trader and had earned a lot of wealth before settling here. Their family trade-witchcraft-quietly flourished behind the safety of the oak and holly and hawthorn trees.

The Taylor family today was descended from the great witch Melinda Warren, whose blood they carried in their veins. The three gifts of Melinda-telekinesis, premonitions, the ability to stop time-passed down through the generations, alternating and advancing in each individual witch. Melanie and her sister Miranda were the most powerful witches of their line and Miranda's baby Megan would probably grow even more powerful than them. She was aware of a more direct line of Warren in California but the two lines had little contact these days.

She jogged up the driveway to the large wooden door. Pulling out her keys, she took it off the latch and stepped inside.

She heard voices as she entered the hall and as she put her coat on her hanger that she'd had as a child, footsteps were heard and her sister appeared from the kitchen.

"Hey Mel we're in here."

Melanie joined her sister in the doorway of the kitchen and raised her eyebrows.

Sitting on a cushion on the floor in the middle of the kitchen Bríd McEwan was playing with her niece and goddaughter Megan and a black haired baby boy she'd never met. The two toddlers were giggling as they played with some of Megan's toys; Megan gumming a stuffed horse that Mel had bought her while the boy had gotten hold of a small black stuffed husky dog and was gurgling contently.

"Running a day care Miry?" Mel said innocently. "Hi Bríd."

"Hey Mel" Bríd flashed a smile and leaned over to tickle the boy's tummy. He giggled and lifted his legs in the air.

"This" Miranda waved her hands at the blanket and the two children and grown woman on it "is the situation."

Reluctantly, Bríd drew her legs to herself and got to her feet. Her medium length blonde hair was in an elegant bun and her blue eyes appeared troubled. Nearly ten years older than Melanie she was a very attractive woman and a powerful Wiccan. Melanie eyed her and her older sister. She didn't need empathy to sense the tension in the room.

"Sit down sis" Miranda sensed her sister's musings and guided her towards the table where a pot of tea was waiting "this may take some time."

XX

Half an hour later Melanie was staring at her sister and friend in disbelief, her cup of tea sitting in front of her, forgotten.

"So let me get this straight" Melanie let her analytical mind condense all the information given into cold hard precise facts. "The baby here was dumped, probably by a family member. You were the one to find him. You had a vision about his future and you see us in his destiny. From what you've said his parents are dead at the hands of some sort of evil and you think it's the evil that we felt on Samhain that disappeared suddenly."

"Pretty much" Miranda tilted her head, holding her teacup in front of her mouth. "Nice to know all that fancy college education's worth something."

Melanie rolled her eyes out of habit.

"And for the record Mellie" her sisters face had grown serious. "I saw you in the future. Not me."

Melanie shot her sister a sharp look. Miranda leaned forward, setting her teacup on the table.

"The baby has a destiny Mellie" identical green eyes held one another as the older sister expounded further. "I saw two futures, two ways his destiny could go. And in one of them, I saw you and Megan in it. Which means that you both will play an important part in his life."

Miranda eyes were intense and gleaming. "I couldn't see very far down that path. Which means the future is still undetermined, kind of a work in progress. The other path is set in stone and if he goes down it…" she closed her eyes and shuddered before opening them again. "Let's just say it's not very nice."

There were shadows in her big sisters eyes; shadows that appeared when her job exposed her to the worst of humanity or when the craft led them to face unspeakable horrors. Melanie gripped her sister's hand, wishing to erase that haunted look.

Miranda squeezed her hand and turned to Bríd. "What's your opinion?"

Bríd mulled her thoughts for a moment before speaking. "It seems clear that the Goddess has placed the child in your path deliberately. I would think to protect the child from whatever killed his family and the hardship he would face in years to come. Yet" she tapped her finger on the table thoughtfully "I have never heard of such an evil before, though I have considerably less experience in this arena. Have either of you heard of such magick?"

"No" the two sisters said almost instantaneously.

"And I checked the family Book of Shadows" Miranda tilted her head to let her hair fall down her back. "There's nothing in it like what I saw. There were wooden wands throwing spells far too quickly to have an incantation and…" she trailed off in frustration. "It didn't feel right. I can't explain it."

"I can check the libraries and see if there might be a reference" Melanie shrugged. It was rare, but it happened on odd occasions. She glanced at her contented niece and the boy they were discussing. Emerald eyes, deeper than the colour of the Taylor girls flashed up at her and she smiled reflexively. Damn he was cute.

"Did I also mention he was a witch?" Miranda casually dropped that little bombshell when Melanie had started to reach out for her mug.

Startled Melanie accidently knocked her cup over and only reflex caused her to catch the mug and the lukewarm liquid inside it. She glared at her serene sister and lowered her fingers so that the mug righted itself and the tea settled back in the mug without a drop spilling.

"No you didn't actually" Melanie growled. "And just how do you know that?"

Miranda just smiled and craned her head to look at the two kids. "Like recognises like Mel."

Melanie was ready to rip into her at that cryptic comment when Bríd looked at the baby and back at Miranda.

"Empathy?" she guessed. Miranda nodded.

"Felt him react when I calmed him down. Only an empath could reach out and touch minds like that."

"Maybe why something dark targeted him?" Melanie mused, looking thoughtfully at the boy.

"Possibly" Miranda grew serious again. "There's something else."

Of course there was.

Miranda went over to the kids and gently rubbed her baby's tummy affectionately. She tickled the boy's feet as her other hand made a swiping motion over his head.

Curious, Melanie joined her sister and sucked in a breath. The ripple of a glamor faded to reveal a vicious cut on his head, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"I hid it to avoid complications at the office" Miranda said quietly. "Take a look."

Melanie was about to say she _was_, when she realised what she meant and rolled her eyes. She let her senses shift, looking at the curious baby blinking at the two women standing above him.

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs when she saw a hideous pulsing blackness surrounding the boy's head, centred at the awful mark. It seemed to have faint tendrils gripping into the pure white aura of an innocent being that had not enough experience in the world to sully it.

"What _is _that?" she whispered in horror. The little guy seemed uncomfortable, shifting and probably picking up on her revulsion and she stepped back a bit, trying to clear her mind.

"I'm thinking a leftover from whatever attacked him and his family" Bríd had joined them and had scooped the boy up for a cuddle, soothing him. "It seems almost like a parasite of some sort; living on his soul. Feeding off of him."

"Like a Soul Snatcher" Melanie said faintly. The blackness seemed similar to the foul things she'd encountered earlier.

"Kind of if Snatcher's could invade a person's soul like this" Bríd mused. "It's not draining him completely but it's keeping itself alive by growing into him. Kind of like a fungus on bread or a parasite, taking what it needs to survive. I'm hoping I can remove it without harming him since the connections seem to be fairly new. If I tap into the power well here, it might be enough."

"Do you need help?" Miranda asked, picking up Megan who had started fussing and held her close.

"The more the better" Bríd said instantly. "I doubt this thing is going to leave easily."

"Well I have the guy for the moment until the investigation closes" Miranda said and Melanie wondered how on earth she knew that that for certain. "And it'll be awhile before Mel and I can apply for custody." She rolled her eyes at her sister as she blanched. "Come on Mellie you didn't see this coming?"

Mel spluttered and Miranda sighed. "I saw _you_ with him" she reminded her baby sister.

"I'm still in school!"

"Please you've got a degree and are working on your Masters" Miranda scoffed. "Not to mention you've got Dad's pharmacy."

Their parents had died only a few years ago in a car crash. As per their parents will, Miranda had gotten the house while Mel had gotten her father's shop in the town. It was still running under his old partner while she worked on her Mastery.

"You'll be fine Mellie" Miranda said easily, patting her arm. "Trust me."

Melanie floundered. The idea of having a kid, even fostering or adopting one, was too bizarre to contemplate. Shaking her head she went back to the counter. "I need coffee."

"Make it quick" Miranda smiled fondly at her sister and grinned at her baby, tickling her. Megan giggled.

Not especially happy with it but it's alright. Working on the next chapter.

For those with severe OC phobia, there will not be many OC's. The only important ones are in this chapter and their roles aren't going to be huge.

There won't be any Charmed characters in the story. There will be references to the Charmed universe-spells, explanations etc. There will also be some referencing from the books written by Cate Tiernan as well as some Wiccan books.

Powers

Miranda-empathy, precognition, intangibility

Melanie-telekinesis, molecular combustion, aura reading


	4. Chapter 4

Melanie shivered as she shimmied out of her clothes and stepped out onto the cool floor. The hardwood floor was freezing. Swiftly she discarded her underwear her jewellery and her hair bobbin and hastily pulled her hand sown linen robes over her head and wriggled to let the folds fall down to her ankles.

Sighing in satisfaction, Mel pulled her hair free from the robe and let it fall free down her back. Her robe was perfect; keeping her warm or cool no matter the temperature. It was a lovely pale blue with gold thread, with symbols and runes of protection and strength woven into the material. Barefoot she left her room and walked out to the landing, shutting the door with her telekinesis.

"Show off" Miranda scolded her as she met her baby sister near the stairs.

"Ah shut it, you're just jealous" Mel teased, pulling a stray piece of hair from under her robe.

Miranda rolled her eyes. She always had envied her sister's powers they both knew that. But she was comfortable with her own, no matter how irritating they were. And Melanie had always been jealous of her power to walk through walls. It was a fair trade off and Mel couldn't 'borrow' powers could she?

Smiling, Miranda smoothed down her emerald green robes that matched the colour of the Taylor girls' eyes. "John's back home so Bríd asked him to watch Megan while we do this"

"Oh good" Melanie nodded. John was Bríd's husband of eight years. He was a Wiccan practitioner but not like his wife or the Taylors in that he had no magick himself, but could tap somewhat into the magick around him. He was a good man and his wife and two children adored him.

"Did you call Jackson?" Miranda asked. The souring of emotion answered her question. "What happened?"

"I'm pretty sure I've been fired" Mel sighed, her feelings mixed.

"He didn't deserve you anyway."

"He didn't did he?" Melanie perked up at that. "I'd like to see him try and do all of the stuff I did for him. Glorified secretary" she trailed off muttering.

"That's the spirit" Miranda walked down the stairs her sister still rambling behind her.

They heard Bríd cooing in the conservatory while the boy squealed over the sound of splashing water. Smiling Miranda poked her head into the room and watched Bríd make faces at the little boy while she towelled him dry. She blew a raspberry onto the boy's tummy making him shriek and giggle helplessly.

"Aww" she heard her baby sister murmur as she took in the scene. Grinning Miranda walked into the conservatory bright and airy despite the overcast day outside.

"Well hi there" she said to bright mischievous emerald eyes.

Bríd brushed her hair from her face and pulled out a roll of fine blue linen. At some point she had changed into her ruby red robe, with symbols of protection woven into the material. "Well I just gave this little fella a nice salt bath and he was so good about it I might give him a cookie after we finish." She tickled the baby's bare stomach and he giggled. Hoisting the baby up, she carefully wrapped him up in the linen, tucking it carefully around him.

"I'll set up the circle" Melanie winked at the boy making him gurgle at her and left the room.

"Has he said anything?"

Bríd shook her head. "Not a peep."

"He asked for his mummy earlier" Miranda's smile faded as sadness crept in. Shaking her head, she straightened. "Are you ready?"

Bríd nodded and got off the couch, gently swinging the baby up in the air, making him laugh. Bríd grinned.

"I think he and Megan will get on well" the older woman approved, holding the baby out to him. His hair was still wet from the purifying bath Bríd just gave him.

Miranda automatically wrapped her arms around the baby and peered into green eyes. He blinked up at her and she smiled. "I think so too."

In the other room Melanie had drawn out a perfect circle with chalk from years of practise and was carefully placing objects on the four cardinal points on the circles boundaries. Each compass point was governed by a specific element and a symbol of the element was placed at each point. The north facing point had a chunk of amethyst. East was air's cardinal point and incense was lit, the smell of sage lingering in the air. South, fire, had a candle burning and west had a silver chalice filled with water.

Miranda sighed at the warm tingling that ran through her at entering their altar room. When non practitioners visited, she merely said it was a study. Not exactly a lie, though it was unlike a study they were familiar with. This was the place they practised private magick. The far wall had shelves laden with their tools and crystals and herbs and the floor was bare of furniture, leaving lots of free space to draw a circle or pentagram. There were no electrics either, simply leaving years and years of energy to permeate the room and the rest of the house, strengthening the wards. Melanie hadn't bothered to set up the altar and in this case they didn't need it.

Bríd sighed wistfully. "I envy you pair. I love this house."

"It's not for sale" Miranda said as she observed the baby's curious eyes, looking around in wonder at the dimly lit room. He was an interesting one she reflected, placing him on her hip as she waited for Melanie to finish sprinkling salt around the circle.

Melanie nodded and gestured towards the circles 'door'-a section of the circle that hadn't been drawn yet. Miranda and Bríd obediently shuffled into the circle and Melanie followed, closing the door behind her and putting the chalk beside the amethyst, sprinkling salt over the door.

Sitting down carefully, the three women formed a circle in a circle, the baby in between them, surprisingly quiet and docile.

"In this time and place we call upon the Goddess and God to our aid" Miranda began. "We invoke the powers of earth, air fire and water to protect and bless our circle. Blessed Be."

"Blessed be" Melanie and Bríd murmured. The candle burned a little brighter and the room became a little warmer.

"We call upon the magick around and beneath us, may it aid us in our quest against the darkness. Blessed Be."

"Blessed Be" the others repeated. The baby was watching with avid eyes. The air around them was beginning to become heavy with magick.

"We call on the magick within us and in every living thing; may it protect and aid us and keep us on the path of gentleness. Blessed Be."

"Blessed Be."

"Lord and Lady we beseech you to lend us your aid in this hour. We come into your circle of protection, into your loving embrace to heal an innocent from dark harmful energy."

Bríd spoke now. "This child has been infected by dark forces, seeking to harm him. I ask for aid in removing what does not belong. I beseech the all loving Goddess to aid in cleansing the darkness and preventing any more harm unto this child."

Bríd pulled out a smooth chunk of clear quartz, one of the best healing crystals you could find. Very gently she let it rest against the cut on his forehead.

"Being of darkness be gone" Bríd whispered.

The boy shifted and moved restlessly. Miranda automatically rubbed his back but for the first time since this morning he began to sniffle.

Melanie tensed beside her and Miranda stiffened as negative emotions started to rise and the air started to crackle. Bríd was unmoving, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. But then her body froze and her eyes flew open.

"No" she gasped. "No."

"Miry" Mel murmured; Miranda could feel her worry. The boy's sniffles were getting louder and he was squirming on Miranda's lap.

"Here" Miranda held the boy firmly with one arm while her free hand went on Bríd's shoulder. Understanding, Melanie did the same on her other shoulder.

When Miranda shut her eyes and focussed, she saw what Bríd was seeing.

Darkness. Blackness. Pure and filthy blackness that she had only ever seen the likes of in Soul Snatchers or other evil wraiths. It was alive, pulsing menacingly at the light magick trying to pull it away from the boy. Its cold malevolent energy brushed against hers and she shuddered trying instinctively to pull away as its tendrils wrapped around her, pulling, draining. It was trying to take her magick away, pulling on Bríd and the boys, intending to leave them nothing more than desiccated corpses. Dimly she heard the baby shrieking.

"_Evil in our midst no longer shall you exist"_ her sister's voice broke through the haze, echoing in her head. Her baby sister-strong familiar comforting-was right beside, stubbornly refusing to let a little parasite overpower her. Her strength gave Miranda focus and she joined her power to her sister's, ignoring the deadly knife edged leech sucking on her soul.

"_Be gone from this time and place, your very existence now erased"_ Miranda quickly invented, thanking the heavens they had spent so much time coming up with rhymes and inflections to handle sudden situations.

"_By the powers that be, we banish thee, for now and all eternity"_ Melanie's voice was thunderous, spoken from the Goddess herself.

The leech recoiled from their magick instantly, trying to burrow back towards the boy, but it was futile. It writhed and twisted, emitting a high pitched shriek before dissolving in a fine sparkling light.

Miranda abruptly found herself back in the room, sweat running down her spine and her hair plastered to her head. The baby was wailing himself hoarse, tears running down his face as blood streaked from the cut that had reopened from the wraith's forceful removal.

"Our thanks to the Goddess and God" Melanie muttered, getting up and breaking the circle. Miranda didn't know how she could stand, she felt as if her legs would give out if she tried. She tried to calm the baby down but she was having little luck.

"Come here big guy" Mellie murmured, bending down and scooping the boy up. "Miry take care of Bríd ok?"

Miranda blinked and glanced over. The older woman was ashen faced and slumping forward, dazed. She had gotten the worst of that parasite's backlash. Willing herself to move, she rubbed the woman's back until she found the strength to get up and help the other woman out of the altar room, not looking back.

She helped Bríd sit back onto the settee and handed her the lemonade she'd been drinking earlier after sneaking a sip herself. Sugar was always a handy thing to have after a circle.

"Thanks" Bríd blew out and leaned back against the settee. Colour was beginning to return to her face and she wiped her forehead with her red sleeve.

"That went well" she deadpanned, keeping her eyes closed. "I didn't realise how strong that parasite was. I'm just thankful I tried to remove it with you and Melanie."

"Thank Goddess for that" Miranda shuddered at the thought if they had tried it alone. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Bríd smiled wanly. "I've seen magick overcharge; we've all had that a time or two. The closest thing I can think of is possession from a spirit or demon but I underestimated how powerful that thing was. I think the boy must have some protection magick in him that stopped the thing from harming him."

"What kind of protection magick?" Miranda furrowed her brows.

"The kind that comes with a heavy sacrifice" Bríd said seriously. "It would have to be if it were to stop that parasite from stealing his life away. I'm thinking that his parents may have tried to protect him from whatever attacked them through a blood sacrifice, most likely their own."

"Dangerous magick" Miranda murmured.

"At that point they probably didn't care" Bríd sighed heavily. "Even without the protection the thing still managed to feed off of him. His own magick was starting to wrap around it, like tissue forming around a foreign object, keeping it away from him as much as possible. I imagine it would have had serious long term complications if it had stayed."

"Like what?" Miranda leaned forward. Her powers did not lie in healing like Bríd's. The other woman was far more versed in the specific area.

Bríd's eyes drifted to look out the window. "It would have had affected a large part of his psyche most likely. A large part of himself would be protecting him from that parasite, keeping it from harming him further. More than likely his magick would have been considerably weakened, if he could even perform magick at all since so much of it would be subconsciously protecting him. There would most likely be issues in concentration and emotion. That thing" she shuddered "was as black as night. It would have dampened his happier emotions and deepened darker ones, anger, guilt, rage to a certain extent. I doubt it would have been able to possess him, it wasn't strong enough for that but it would have certainly influenced him in some ways in his thoughts and feelings."

"Just as well it's gone then" Melanie said as she came into the room, still holding the baby. Miranda nearly melted at the sight. The baby had stopped crying though his eyes were still red rimmed and had a cookie in one hand and was busy gumming on that while his other hand was buried Mel's hair, twisting some of the long straight chestnut hair around him almost like a security blanket while he rested his head on her shoulder. It was a gorgeous picture and Miranda smiled at how natural it looked. Melanie would make a great mother.

"Hey cutie" Miranda got up thankfully without falling flat on her face and went over to them. Melanie had cleaned his face and applied a poultice on his forehead, the cloth bundle taped to keep it in place.

"I put the quartz crystal in the poultice to draw out the leftover dark magick and put a salve over the cut" Melanie told Bríd, resting the baby on her hip. "I'm hoping that'll get rid of that it without the cut scarring."

"It should do" Bríd assured her as she carefully got up and joined the group, automatically checking the poultice and smiling at the baby. "Just be sure to throw it in the ocean when you're done to let the sea purify it."

"Will do" Melanie nodded and shifted him around a little as Bríd bent to look at into the baby's eyes.

"You've got a lovely head of hair don't you? John would love to have some of that." Bríd cooed making the other women laugh. John had lost his hair early to his chagrin.

"Well I've got some biscuits and coffee set up in the kitchen as well as some ice cream for our little guest. Are you guys coming?"

Miranda's stomach rumbled loudly and the boy giggled staring at her with large eyes. Miranda blushed and made a face at him while the other two laughed.

"Sure" Miranda gave up as the boy gave her a large sloppy grin. She narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "Now are you going to tell us what your name is yet little man?"

"Pwongslit" the boy told her and handed her his cookie.

"Thank you" making a face Miranda accepted it.

"Well that makes no sense" Bríd announced. "What are we going to call him while you have him?"

"Did you 'hear' his name earlier?" Melanie asked, glancing at her sister who shook her head.

"No and it wasn't mentioned on the note either. Any suggestions?" Miranda asked.

"Going with tradition?" Mel's eyes brightened.

"M names" Miranda mused. "Let's see, Michael, Matthew, Malcolm, Max, Merlin, Murdoch"

"Merlin?" Mel said incredulously.

"Murdoch?" Bríd sounded dubious.

"Have you never watched the A-Team?" Miranda demanded grinning.

"If we're going to adopt him we're not naming him after a crazy lunatic pilot from a TV show" Melanie said firmly.

"I like Matthew myself" Bríd said before Miranda could defend her idol. "John had an uncle called Matthew. It's a good name. It means 'gift of God if I remember right. We were thinking about naming Rachel that if she had been a boy."

"Well that's appropriate" Miranda looked at Melanie. "Alexander for his middle name after Dad?"

Melanie looked far away for a moment before looking down at the boy. He turned big green eyes up at her and she smiled softly. Resistance was futile under that gaze.

"Matthew Alexander" she murmured. "That's a good name huh?"

Matthew stared up at her solemnly before dropping his eyes and resting his head on her shoulder, still wrapping himself up in her hair contently.

"Matthew and Megan" Bríd smiled happily. "That has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"

"Yes it does" Miranda smiled.

"So do we know how old Matthew is?" Bríd peered at the boy.

"Roughly 14 to 15months."

"Hmm. That would put him around Lughnasadh" Bríd muttered to herself. "Not a bad birthday."

"Alright ladies can we go into the kitchen now? My arms are about to fall off" Melanie complained, resting Matthew on her hip. Babies were pretty heavy after a while.

"Oh alright we can talk shop in there" Bríd tousled the boy's hair and smiled at him.

"It's funny" she said to Miranda's quizzical look. "When kids are that age it's great to play with them give them sweets, clothes, toys-and giving them back to their parents at the end of the day makes them so much cuter."

"Hah hah" Miranda rolled her eyes, her lips curving involuntarily.

Bríd just shrugged unrepentantly. "I'm telling you it's great when they're not yours."

Miranda just snorted and followed her sister through the door.

XXX

At the same time, many miles away in an office in Scotland a magnificent fire bird opened its beady black eyes.

_It is done._

The path had been diverted. Destiny had now changed course.

Phoenixes were beings of light, of fire. Fire was unpredictable as was destiny. Fire was often used in divination as a method to see the future, because while it was unpredictable and worked for few, it never lied.

As a being of fire, Fawkes could see fate unfurling before him. Every action led to its change, inadvertent or not. A single difference was all it took; someone changing their mind last minute and creating an alternate path, different from the original pre-set course. Like ripples in a pond the changes affected everything; some changing events, others remaining set in stone.

Because of the actions of his bonded, the future had been set to follow the final destination, for better or worse. Albus Dumbledore had laid down the seeds of the future and by his hand the future would unfurl as he wished.

But fate did not take kindly to meddling. His bonded meant well, he was at his heart a good man who cared about the world and its people. But he was blinded by his feelings of superiority and prejudice. He believed only he knew what was best for the world and was not above sacrificing others for the 'Greater Good'. In an alternate world, perhaps his plans had come into fruition but in this world, fate had disrupted his intentions and changed itself deliberately. For better or for worse it was unclear, but fate had denied Dumbledore's attempt at controlling her will. From now on _she_ would be the master of the Chosen One's destiny and had put the child out of his grasp for now.

Fawkes trilled sharply and spread his wings. Fate had given the world another chance to spare it from catastrophe. Now he would ensure that fate remained on her intended course.

And with that he burst into flames, taking the side desk with him that was home to new spinning devices would have shrieked and stopped seconds later. They were consumed by Phoenix Fire; a substance as deadly as Fiend Frye when the phoenix wished it, leaving nothing but ash and splinters.

Albus Dumbledore was at that moment in the Wizengamot unaware of the fact his trinkets tracking Harry Potter had been destroyed, as had the orbs monitoring the wards around Privet Drive, any magic around the area as well as any magic Harry used himself. It would take some time for him to do something about it as with political upheaval, arrests and trials and tribunals, searching for a suitable candidate to watch over Harry near Privet Drive, there was simply no time to spare. By the time the unrest settled down Harry Potter was gone and Privet Drive was devoid of the Dursleys.

XXX

Eugh…collapses into an exhausted heap. Damn it that was hard. Currently suffering from the 'butterfly mind' where I have too many thoughts and ideas running through my head making it really hard to actually write anything. I seem to be terminally ill with the syndrome at this stage.

The next chapter will deal with Dumbledore, the Dursleys and will probably fast forward to later years.

The Wiccan parts of this I made up from using a couple of fiction books and references.


End file.
